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#no matter how many times they try to explain me or how many times I read and reread the same text
womanmanipulator · 14 hours
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prove your love
spencer reid x bau!fem!reader
synopsis: lila gives your boyfriend heart eyes. when he’s assigned to stay over at her place you’re pissed. when spencer comes home, he makes sure to show his love for you. SMUT!!! minors dni
warnings: dom/sub, praise kink, oral sex (fem receiving), piv, various positions, overstimulation, pet names such as trouble, sweetheart, love, etc. very cheesy.
~
you slip your heels off in the hall with an aggravated huff. ‘look on the bright side, the case is over.’ your brain tries to tell you but the many sights and experiences of lila disrespecting you and glaring at you wasn’t going to leave your brain anytime soon. meanwhile, spencer got the opposite treatment, compliments, heart eyes, and lingering handshakes the entire time. she even slipped him her number, that little—
“hey,” spencer says, knocking you out of your thoughts. he can tell your brains conjuring something up. he can practically see the cogs turning in your head. “what’s got you so worked up?” he asks, taking a step towards you. his hands settle on your hips then travel to your lower back. he smiles down at you.
“nothing.” you dismiss, light and airy. trying to act unbothered. “why do you think i’m mad?” you question back, a little too defensive for your liking. “are you asking me to profile you?” he grins. you don’t get the chance to speak before he starts, “for starters, you practically ripped your heels off and threw them, you’re all tense, your fists were balled up and i can tell your thinking hard about something.” he exaggerates.
“you’re wrong because i am perfectly fine.” you state matter of factly. brushing his hands off you and walking to the bedroom. he follows after you. “holding in emotions, specifically anger, can have detrimental effects on one’s mental health. the constant internal struggle to suppress emotions can lead to even more stress, anxiety and even depression.” spencer explains. you just hum in response, searching in your closet for something comfortable, your mind doesn’t stop running about stupid lila though. he watches you. it wasn’t uncommon, he loved to observe you. most of the time it was just to see your pretty face while you were in thought but other times he liked to study your behavior and learn your routines. spencer liked to do it with you.
“you’re staring,” you comment. “i can’t help it.” he flirts. “oh please, did you tell lila that too today?” you let slip. you flush. glad you aren’t face to face with spencer right now. “that’s what this is about?” he chuckles. “cmere,” he says. you stumble over to the bed and he pulls you onto his lap. “you know i love you right?” he says. you nod. not looking at him. “so much, like i am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you, or whatever bella said.” he makes a twilight reference. you were the one who forced him to watch it. you giggle a little, meeting his eyes. he smiles. “there’s my girl.” he murmurs. your heart swoons. his hands settle on your waist and he leans in. you kiss, it’s almost like a breath of fresh air. when he pulls away, still keeping close he speaks. “i think i need to prove how much i love you, hmm?” he hums. “you don’t need to.” you mumble. “but i want to, please?” he pleads. you don’t protest for long. “okay.. if you must.” you giggle. he smiles. he’s so pretty you feel like your going to explode.
as he places you on your back, unbuttoning your shirt, he starts to spit out another fact. “did you know men are more jealous of sexual infidelity than emotional?” he asks. “women are actually the opposite, they get more jealous with ‘emotional cheating’ than sexual.” he takes his time, you always loved how smart he was. it turned you on.
“i wasn’t jealous,” you say. “oh really?” he snorts. slipping off your shirt. “yeah.” you say. he instructs you to lift your hips so he can slide your pants off. “mhmm..” he says. eyes focused on your body, he’s too distracted to make a smart comment. “she was pretty, i guess.” you try to say. lila was gorgeous. he just chuckles and shakes his head. not bothering to comment. he dips down and kisses you. nose accidentally bumping against yours and teeth clashing. it was messy, just how you liked it. “what was that thing about kissing and shaking hands?” you ask, just to hear him talk.
“the number of pathogens transferred from just a single handshake is staggering. it’s safer to kiss,” he says into the skin of your neck. “that’s interesting, tell me more.” you smile. he groans. “i can tell you all about it later, can’t i just take care of my baby now?” he smiles. “baby? what happened to trouble?” you grin. “you are trouble,” he sighs. lovingly of course. you giggle as he kisses down from your neck to your collarbone, then unbuckles your bra without struggle. pulling it off. he trails down to your tummy, pressing little kisses here and there. making you antsy. he reaches the spot you need him most and smiles into your skin as you squirm a little. “patience, trouble.” he says. he plants a firm kiss on your hipbone and pulls your panties down with one hand. “you’re so pretty,” he smiles. eyes flickering to your face. “all mine, hmm?” he hums and you nod enthusiastically. he chuckles and thumbs experimentally at your clit.
you press your hips up into his touch, leaning into it. chasing that feeling. he smirks, inserting two fingers slowly. he paws at that spongy spot within your walls. you let out a quiet moan and spencer doesn’t deem it good enough, he starts punching at the spot. abusing it almost. this pulls another moan out of you and he speeds up the movements on your clit. you almost see heaven as you arch your back, eyes rolling back. he leans down, attaching his lips on your clit and sucking harshly. thank god you weren’t standing because you would’ve doubled over with how strong your orgasm was. you try to get the words out but only pant. spencer can tell, “gonna cum, trouble?” he asks. then continues his attack on the bundle of nerves. the coil in your belly snaps, climaxing with his name on your lips.
the sound of your slick fills the room as spencer works you through your organism. eyes trained on your pussy. his fingers are pulled out, given a quick lick and suddenly his mouth is on you. lapping and drinking up your release like a man starved. “spence, wait— gimme a minute-“ moan.
your begs fall on deaf ears as he’s absolutely lost in you. there’s no pulling him out. you reach your hand down and bury it in his hair. pressing your hips into the bed to escape the overstimulation. trying to tug him off, he doesn’t listen though. moaning into you when you pull on his hair. the vibrations make you even more sensitive before, his nose brushes up against your clit as two strong hands come to hold you down on either side.
you moan, tears pricking in your eyes from the overstimulation. everything’s magnified by 10. the obscene sounds of your pussy fill the room as your poor clit is abused, spencer’s tongue prodding into you, milking you for everything you have to offer. the familiar hear fills your belly and you can feel the coil start to unwind. “spence—“ you sob. cumming again. riding against his face. you can feel that bastard smirk against you as he greedily laps up your release. “you’re okay,” he coaxs. finally pulling off of you. he presses a kiss to your mound then pulls himself up, he kisses your cheek. then wipes the stray tears on your cheek.
“hi pretty,” he says with a smile. your eyes meet his and you smile, a little dazy. “you have something on your face.” you say, remaints of cum. “do i?” he chuckles. he wipes it off with the back of his hand and kisses you. you can taste yourself on his tongue. “love you so much,” he mumbles against your lips. you don’t get the chance to respond before he’s kissing you again. a little tongue slipping in as he gets carried away. he messily kisses the corner of your mouth, then latches onto your neck. he works at his zipper, multitasking.
begrudgingly, he pulls away from you, slipping down his pants and kicking them off haphazardly. you tug at his shirt and he takes the hint to pull it off. undoing his tie and throwing it somewhere. when he FINALLY takes his shirt off you get to run your hands along his torso giddily. “y’so pretty,” you mumble. “this isn’t about me, it’s about you, trouble.” he says. slipping off his boxers. his cock slips angrily against his stomach and you almost whine. he leans down and kisses you as he slowly pushes in. the stretch burns but is bearable. “i know. its okay,” he whispers. he presses to the hilt, nudging against your cervix. you feel full, his hand slithers down and presses against your lower belly. “mmphh.” you whimper against his lips. he devours the sound and keeps his lips on yours as he starts to thrust in and out of you. pulling his head back to see your face every so often as the tip nudges against that sweet spot. it’s torturous how slow he’s going. you’re so overstimulated, tears start falling out of your eyes.
he smiles down at you, picking up the pace a little. his face contorts and he lets out a moan. you involuntarily clench at that and it punches out another sound. “trouble— can’t keep doing that.” he slurs. the wet sounds of him shoving your slick out of you fill the room as your hips collide. teeth and noses brush together messily and he’s practically devouring you. everything’s happening so fast. before you know it you’re coming again, his name recited on your lips. he works you through it, slamming into you with a feverish pace. you constrict around him and he’s not long after you, pressing himself as far as he can into you and coming. he’s whining,
you pant, he’s collapsed ontop of you. buried in your neck. tears roll down your face. “good girl, good job. taking me so well.” he praises breathily. taking? “..taking..?” you say. “don’t you mean took?”
“we aren’t done.” he lifts himself up from your shoulder, pushing his glasses up. the both of your climax leaks around his dick and spills out of you slowly. “i can’t!” you start to cry as he pulls out, he presses your knees to your chest and shoves himself back in. so much for catching your breath. “you will,” he says softly. beginning to thrust in and out of you, he’s so deep you feel it in your stomach. “that’s it, my good girl huh?” he praises into your neck, a pang of arousal shoots through your body and you can feel yourself get wetter. “spence—“ “none of the whining, you can take it.” he says. he bites at your jawline. you moan loudly. everything feels so good, it’s too much. he reaches down and starts to rub figure eights into your clit gently, a contrast to the brutal pace he had going. “there ya go, taking me so well.” he murmurs, pulling his teeth off and kissing gently. “ah- i- gonna.. cum.” you force out. almost forgetting how to talk. “let go baby.” he says. your back arches, eyes rolling back, clinging to him as if he was the one keeping your grounded. he follows after, shooting cum into you with a whimper and a “nngh.”
it’s unreal. you see stars.
when you come down from your high, your sat on spencer’s lap, dick still intact. you sob, falling into his shoulder and clinging onto him. “i can’t spence.” you sniffle from the overstimulation. if you had to come again you’d probably scream. you’d also scream though if he pulled out.
“the world record for most female orgasms in an hour is a hundred and ah- fuck, thirty six” he says as you clench around him. “i think you can.” he smirks. you push his glasses up.
you bite back, “nerd.”
-
that’s it
not proofread
i’m sick asf rn 🥰
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drdemonprince · 2 days
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Can you offer any (academic) writing advice for Autistics and ADHDers? You clearly write a lot and write very well and very clearly, so some insight into your process would be great. Personally, I tend to struggle with over explaining or over citing (cause I am always getting misunderstood) and that I get very fixated on not misrepresenting what my sources are saying to avoid feeling like I'm lying. All this is time consuming and makes it hard to say what I really want to say. Thanks!
Hi there! I've written an essay about a lot of this, here is the free link to read it on Medium:
Much of my writing process is inspired by the book How to Write a Lot by Paul Silvia, and it is specifically tailored to academics. The advice applies to people who write popular nonfiction or fiction just as easily, however. And he does have advice relevant to the self-editing and self-doubt you describe feeling.
The full piece gets into this more, but here are some of the stand-out tips:
Schedule a regular time to write every week and show up no matter whether you are feeling it or not.
Throw out all your magical thinking about what you "need" to be able to write. You don't need the perfect workspace, divine inspiration, the right pen, the right playlist. You just need to show up to write regularly, and do it
Editing, outlining, working with research notes, and drafting all count as "writing." Don't expect your initial drafts to be perfect or to equate writing only with getting new words on the page.
Try writing in public spaces to help get yourself in the mindset of explaining a concept to someone with a different frame of reference and type of expertise than you. Writing in a cafe or a public library can force you think and write in a more accessible way. (alternatively, you can pretend you are explaining the concept to a specific person in your life who you respect but who doesnt have all the same reference points as you -- sometimes this is called the "Grandma Test". Explain something like you are talking to your grandma.)
In addition to all this, I would add that you should read a lot of writing, both good and bad, especially work that isn't dry and academic. If all you read is journal articles, you'll write a journal article -- and most of those are hell to read, even for academics. read fiction. read bad wattsapp shipping. read substacks. read newspapers. read indulgent personal nonfiction in the cut or whatever. read reddit posts. notice what works and what doesn't. develop an ear.
and then write a lot! it took me 15 years to get good enough for anything i wrote to get noticed. you can expect to take many years to get comfortable developing your own voice, too. i dont know how far along you are, but even when you've made tremendous progress you'll only notice your flaws and feel the most turgid brain foggy moments. that doesn't mean you're failing.
also, to some extent you can embrace your citation-dense, precise manner of self-expression. we are living in a moment of maximalism and indulgent, long creative works. it's the decade of the 5 hour youtube essay and the 2 hour album. my 5,000 word essays do better than my 2,000 word ones. you should strip down unnecessary tangents and trust yourself and your reader a little more probably, but ive found that the more blatantly autistic and indulgent my writing gets the more the right people like it. a writer's flaws and their distinctive voice are kinda hard to separate. you're not for everyone!
good luck!
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bicheetopuff · 1 day
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Hi @nemovanilla ! This is in reference to one of the tags on this post.
Sorry for taking a while to elaborate. I was gonna just explain in a reply but realized the way I explain things is always longer than it needs to be so I figured I respond in its own post. So anyways…
Contents:
I: Nighteye’s unwillingness to admit when he’s wrong
II: Deku’s unwillingness to just accept fate
III: The power of willpower and conviction
IV: Changing fate
V: Conclusion
I: Nighteye’s unwillingness to admit when he’s wrong
So if you’ve followed me for a while, you already know I don’t like Nighteye that much. However, I’ll admit that overtime I realized that I really wasn’t supposed to like him.
He’s overly cynical and critical of Deku despite the fact that he’s just a teenager. A major part of his character is that once he had something in mind, he’d run with it. His word is law to him and it annoyed the shit out of me. But you can’t really blame him because that’s the nature of his quirk. As All Might said, his foresight has never been wrong.
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Once he had set in his mind that All Might was going to die, and needed a successor to pass OFA to (despite it not being his decision) he found Mirio and just clung to him. He even admits to himself on his death bed that he only initially took in Mirio for the sake of convincing All Might to make him his successor.
Because of that, he refused to have faith in Deku as All Mights successor and it took him all the up to the day he died to see what All Mights saw in Deku. It was the first time someone had ever proven him wrong.
II: Deku’s unwillingness to just accept fate
Since chapter one, Deku has proved time and time again that he refuses to accept circumstances that he deems unfair no matter how unrealistic his success would be. For example:
-Saving Katsuki from the sludge villain. He had no way of defending himself yet he still ran to save him when no one else would, influencing All Mights actions. If Izuku hadn’t done anything, everyone probably just would’ve stood by idly while watching a middle schooler die.
-Saving Uraraka from the one pointers at the entrance exam. While Uraraka most likely wouldn’t have died cuz she had the means to save herself, Deku still forced himself to do something about it, regardless of being too scared to move just a moment before.
-Convincing Todoroki to take control of his own fate at the sports festival by using both his left and right side.
-Hunting down Iida before he could kill Stain and somehow beating him despite most pros failing to do so.
Saving Kota from Muscular, Katsuki from AFO, Eri from Chisaki, the list goes on. But all of that to say that despite odds being against him in all of these circumstances, he persevered out of pure stubbornness and his unwavering conviction to save as many people as he can.
So, when All Might explained to Deku that he was destined to die, the first thing Deku did was try to figure out how he can change that. Initially it sounds like grief ridden denial but it later takes on a new meaning.
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(I find this entire conversation almost ironic. All Might accepts that his fate has already been decided and Deku rebuttals by saying that he’ll be by his side to change said fate. But, throughout the entire final arc, Deku hasn’t even spoken to All Might. He was by someone else’s side (figuratively) changing All Mights fate.)
III: The power of willpower and conviction
So, in the Hassaikai raid:
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This is when we start to realize the true meaning of Nighteyes character. The entire point of his character is to be proven wrong (in my opinion).
He represents the expectation of typical shonen tropes and he actively tries to enforce those stereotypes ever since he’s introduced in the story with beliefs similar to “the strongest heroes successor should already slightly stronger than the average person with light hair and light eyes,” hence why he clung to Mirio so much. Mirio fits the “my power is a curse but I’m admirable because I worked really hard to control it” trope and while one can argue that Deku fits this trope too, I don’t think he does. Deku has never viewed OFA as cursed. He’s always considered it a blessing. Controlling OFA took less than a hundred chapters and he was never looked down upon for it.
Oh and don’t forget “the mentors untimely death to further character development for the mc.” If anything, Katsuki took over that one. (Can katsuki be considered a mentor, technically? Since Deku always looked up to him so much and learned from him more than he learned from anyone else? This is a genuine question, pls help)
Those are major ingredients for the shonen formula and, according to Nighteye, that’s fate. Things that are destined to happen in a shonen manga because that’s what always happens in a shonen manga.
By his and most shonen readers standards, Mirio, Katsuki, or Todoroki should’ve been the mc to declare your run of the mill shonen comic book. But they’re not. Fate was changed and stereotypes were pushed already by Deku’s mere existence. He’s fought his whole life against people who didn’t believe in him and Nighteye was no different.
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He had to continue proving his haters wrong and being told that he can’t do something furthers his willpower to help people no matter the cost (not that that’s entirely healthy but, you know.)
People that know Deku have seen time and time again that he reaches his goals no matter how steep the hill might be. He never ceases to surprise people (I think Uraraka said something similar at some point but I can’t remember when) so the people around him that know him on the surface, have faith in him.
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And according to Nighteye, that’s all they needed.
IV: Changing Fate
Nighteyes foresight changed because Deku and co. refused to lay down and accept fate so, they fought it instead. And won. Deku proved to Nighteye that All Mights fate could be changed.
Skipping ahead to the final war arc, All Might is fighting that villain that was destined to follow through on All Mights unspeakably gruesome death. He starts looking back on his life as he waits for it to happen. People watching the broadcast just accepted that he was about to die.
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However…
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Remember what was said about faith? Yeah Izuku holds a lot of that in Katsuki. As for a character, other than Izuku (and Dabi but this ain’t about him), with enough will and conviction to change his own fate in order to change his mentors? I can’t think of anyone else but Katsuki.
(The panel of Eraserhead at the press conference after Katsuki was kidnapped was supposed to go here but I ran out of space so I’ll just give the quote: “Any lapse in his behavior is my failing. Still… he behaved that way at the sports festival because he has such strong convictions and ideals… more than anyone, he pursues the title of top hero with everything he’s got. If the villains have mistaken that for a weakness… then their thought process is indeed superficial.”)
Thus, Nighteye’s foresight was changed.
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Izuku proved that All Mights fate could be changed, and Katsuki was the one who changed it.
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V: Conclusion
This post probably could’ve been a lot shorter and summed up in only a few paragraphs but, where’s the fun in that? I honestly really wanted to talk about it in depth because I find this part of the narrative so poetic and beautiful.
In the Hassaikai arc, everyone had to believe in Deku. In this arc, all Katsuki needed was for Deku to believe in him. Making Deku’s faith in Katsuki just as strong as everyone’s faith in him.
It just kinda reminds me how bnha is really just a parody of shonen manga, calling out really dumb tropes time and time again by referencing western superhero media that’s been pushing away these same tropes for decades now.
Anyways, I hope this is a good enough elaboration lmao. If I keep typing, this post will end up being too long.
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writingonleaves · 3 days
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were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman
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pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character
warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread
inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift
word count: 5.6k
author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!
~*~*~
When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future. 
It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.
She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior. 
At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise. 
She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.
May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)
I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it. 
I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly? 
But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.
When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us. 
At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.
I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.
I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?
The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right? 
But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.
After two years, seven months and 12 days,  I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?
When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when. 
I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag. 
June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck) 
I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?
I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.
I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other. 
Yet we still hurt each other. 
This fucking hurts.
You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did. 
Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional. 
When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down. 
Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?
I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better. 
All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured. 
It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.
And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.
The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.
I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for? 
So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.
Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always. 
So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?
I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to. 
I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?
You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.
Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you. 
Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?
It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.
I fucking loved you.
I wish it ended differently.
July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)
I really really fucking miss you. 
I do. 
I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too. 
I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.
I miss having you as a friend. 
I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.
Do you get the urge to do the same?
July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)
It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen. 
Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. 
The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now. 
In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.
I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.
Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too. 
October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)
It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday. 
Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?
But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago. 
Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered. 
Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this. 
But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed. 
I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore. 
But I did once.
You did too, right?
November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)
I hate Halloween. 
Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there. 
Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me. 
It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond. 
We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?
Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known. 
Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd. 
I looked for you in every crowd for years. 
That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me? 
I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months. 
It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.
I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then. 
But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that. 
I hate Halloween.
November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)
I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me. 
Or maybe not. 
I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized. 
Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 
Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.
June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)
Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack 
I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.
I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.
I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. 
I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important. 
I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome. 
But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on. 
I hope you're moving on. 
And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight. 
If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.
Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met. 
Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up. 
But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day. 
Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door. 
She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.
And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that. 
She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.
After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.
Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles. 
Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t. 
Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city. 
It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.
Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster. 
(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)
She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city. 
The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too. 
She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee. 
Jeremy walks into the book store. 
Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red. 
As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.
Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her. 
The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything. 
The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways. 
The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with. 
Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same. 
“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out. 
Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all. 
He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence. 
“I see you bought my book.”
“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”
She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”
“You’ve been watching?”
She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”
“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”
She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”
“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”
“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does. 
She swallows. “I appreciate that.”
“I’ve already read it, you know.”
“Read what?”
Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”
“Oh.” 
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”
She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”
“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..” 
He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”
“Could I get a signed copy?”
“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”
He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”
“You’ve already done that.”
“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”
She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”
“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?” 
“We’re just going in circles now.”
“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”
“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”
“The point, is that I still love you.”
“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”
He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”
“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”
“I do.”
“And what are you going to do about that?”
“What are you going to let me do?”
“I live in Brooklyn.”
“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”
She tries again. “It’s been five years.”
“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”
Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”
“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”
“I hurt you too.”
He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”
“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”
“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”
“Even after reading the book?”
“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”
“Try for what?”
“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”
“Why did you never text me?”
“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”
“The message?”
“You blocked me, right?”
Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”
He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”
“Who are you guys playing?”
“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”
She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.
to my first fan, 
i still love you too. 
xxx-xxx-xxxx
yours, 
noelle
He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused. 
“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”
“Oh.”
“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”
“I know. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t.”
She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”
His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.
39 notes · View notes
iloveetoeatbananas · 3 days
Note
Part 2 for stranded please😔 that call made me lose my mind tbh😔😔thx<3
yes of course I will make a part two!! I really just wanted to say thank you for all of the support on the first part, I'm really happy that you guys liked it <3
I've never written anything as um- graphic- as this before, so if it's bad I'm sorry
But since yall asked, here it is
______________________________________________________________
Stranded pt.2 (Minho x fem!reader)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pt.1, Pt.2
Context: Go read the first part, that will explain everything (u could read this as a one shot tho I guess)
Warnings: cursing and lots of smut 😖
Word count: 2.8k (I proof read but I can only re-read smut so many times so I apologize if there are spelling errors)
______________________________________________________________
As Minho hung up the phone you couldn't wait to pull his lips back on to yours. Once he did so, he quickly put his phone back in his pocket and turned all of his attention back to you. You drew towards him again, putting your chest right up against his, eliminating any previous space you had from each other.
Your lips merged onto each others again and it resulted in a long, hungry and desperate kiss. You felt heat radiating off of Minho's body as you continued to put your hands all over him. He did the same as he kept his left hand on your ass to keep you propped up on the wall as he continued to kiss you. His other hand found it's way up your thigh, inching higher and higher up. You could feel yourself throbbing between your legs, and eventually you started to become more and more desperate for Minho.
You moved one of your hands to the back of his neck and the other traced down Minho's defined chest and eventually to his lower mid drift, and you gently slipped your fingers under the waistband of his sweatpants. You could feel him grow even harder between your legs because of the sudden contact.
The tension in the room was thick and heavy and you could sense that you were both longing for even more of each other.
"Wow someone's a little eager, huh?" Minho said breathlessly while pulling away from the kiss. The deep rasp in his voice sent shivers down your spine and you couldn't help but feel even more turned on by him.
"Oh shut up Minho." You say while panting. I mean, you'd be lying if you said that you weren't eager, and you'd also be lying if you said you hadn't woken up after dreaming about moments like these with Minho for months.
However, you had always chided yourself for thinking about him in such a way. But why would you even want to admit that you had a crush on the guy who enjoyed making fun of you?
Still no matter how wrong you thought it was, you knew deep down that he was the only boy at your school that you had ever felt any sort of attraction towards. Something drew you to him and you were just so used to denying it and how you felt about him. But now, after admitting out loud that you liked him, it felt as if a pressure in you that was building up by the day had finally disappeared. You didn't even know how long you had been waiting to say it but when you did, it just felt right.
Minho on the other hand didn't have to try and convince himself otherwise. He knew that he liked you, but he could never find the right way to tell you. He was always worried of how you would react if he did. If you would laugh at him or tease him, or if you wouldn't even take him seriously, if you would just think he was joking with you. The thought of ruining any chance of talking to you again, even though the only talking you guys did included insults and teasing the other person, scared him regardless. But he could only avoid telling you for so long. He knew he would end up breaking and saying something to you one day.
After sharing another brief kiss you pulled away from Minho again, "Come on, let's go up to my room." You said while unwrapping your legs from his waist and putting your feet back on the floor, holding his hand in yours as you led him upstairs and into your room. You entered your room and Minho walked in after you, closing the door behind him.
You took off your tights and Minho stepped forward, helping you take off your shirt. He crashed his lips onto yours once more and you had one hand on his chest while the other was futzing with your skirt, desperate to get it off.
Once you had stripped off your remaining pieces of clothing, you remained only in your bra and underwear. Once of your hands traveled lower again and you began to pull down on the waist band of Minho's sweatpants once more. He soon got the hint and pulled down his sweatpants, leaving him in only his boxers. Articles of clothing were scattered around the floor as you and Minho stood close to the edge of your bed. He continued to kiss you as you palmed him through his underwear, causing him to exhale a soft moan as you did so.
You drew away from Minho, one hand lingering on his chest as you dropped down to your knees. You used your other hand to pull down Minho's boxers and they loosely fell to his ankles as his cock sprung out, hitting his stomach. Beads of precum glittered his cock as you took his length in your hands, steadying yourself by removing you hand from his chest and placing it on his upper thigh.
Very quickly, you had to mentally prepare yourself for what you were getting yourself into because Jesus, he was big to say the least.
You could hear Minho's breathing hitch as you slowly began rubbing him up and down, thumb gliding over his tip softly as you looked up at him. "Who's eager now, hm?" You say in a seductive tone that makes Minho's mind spin. You hear him let out a scoff in response.
You let out a giggle as you bring your head closer, littering kissing on Minho's cock as you licked him up and down. He groaned quietly and flung his head back, taking one of his hands and putting it on the back of your head. He tugged at your hair as you kept kissing and rubbing his length up and down, changing your pace from fast to slow in order to tease him slightly.
He moaned once more, "You're really never going to stop teasing me, huh?" He said with a soft chuckle while pulling his head back up, allowing himself to look at you. He was making a joke but it was obvious that he was desperately waiting for you to give him more.
"I'm not teasing you Minho." You said in an innocent voice before pausing, "Just tell me what you want me to do."
"Oh- come on. You know what I want you to do." He says while continuing to let out soft moans due to you to licking him up and down, taking his tip in your mouth and swirling your tongue around it before pulling away once more.
"Maybe I do. But I want to hear you say it." You say while grinning up at him. You knew you were being a bit unfair to him but you just loved seeing him act like this, the way he turned into putty at your touch. I guess you could say you finally liked having some power over him, after he was the one teasing you for so many years.
You could hear in his voice how impatient he was getting, "I want my dick down your throat," he said while beginning to grip your hair harder. "Is that clear enough for you Princess?" He said. His tone more desperate and pleading this time.
"Your not even going to ask me politely?" you questioned, knowing that you were definitely pushing your luck, but you wanted to see how far he'd be willing to let you tease him.
Minho sighed before he continued, "Please." And that was all you needed to hear.
You took Minho's cock in your mouth all at once, choking on his length as the head of his dick hit the back of your throat. He let out a groan and threw his head back once more. You pulled your mouth away and then kept sucking him off. The way you swirled your tongue around his dick warranted whimpers and moans from Minho that he was clearly trying to hold in.
Minho was a popular guy and he had been with girls previously. Maybe he had gotten drunk at a party or two and gotten lucky with some random girl, but nothing compared to how you took him. You were gentle yet so passionate with him and he was absolutely losing his mind. He was sure he would never be able to feel this good from anyone else's doing but yours.
He mumbled words of praise to you as you continued to quite literally, suck the life out of him, and you enjoyed seeing how pleasured he felt by your touch.
Minho used the hand he had on your head to guide your movements as you continued to move your mouth up and down his cock. And sooner then even Minho imagined, he was almost over the edge.
"Oh- fuck- I'm close." Minho said breathlessly, yet despite his warnings you kept your movements the same. And when he finally came in your mouth, you swallowed every last bit of him up.
"You did so well for me baby." Minho said while helping you back up, bringing you in and kissing you again. He took a handful of your ass in his large hands, making you moan into his mouth at the sudden contact. Then suddenly, he picked you up and tossed you onto the bed and he began to climb on top of you.
"What are you doing?" You asked with a mix of confusion and excitement in your voice.
"What do you mean? Did you really think that I'd be done with you already?" He questioned again as he looked down at you with a grin that you couldn't help but to reciprocate. "It's your turn now princess." He said while sliding off your panties.
You would be lying if you said you hadn't been soaking wet this entire time. The ache between your legs was prominent as Minho slid his fingers into you, making you moan loudly.
"Wow looks like someone's already excited, huh?" Minho said, teasing you slightly as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. He was being agonizingly slow and you cursed at yourself mentally for teasing him earlier because now he planned on doing the exact same to you.
"Well your one to talk." You said with a bit of an attitude, but in actuality you were just trying to pull yourself together. You couldn't help but moan as Minho used his free hand to squeeze your breast and used his mouth to kiss the skin along your bra line.
"So you're giving me attitude now, hm?" He said softly as he brought his mouth up to your ear and whispered.
"N-no I'm sorry, just please-" You said, voice breaking because of how Minho's thumb began circling your cunt.
"Please what? Use your words sweetheart." He said against your ear as he began kissing you down your neck.
"Please Minho you know what I want you to do." you say before continuing, "please don't make me say it." you said, basically begging him. I mean, it was bad enough how eager you were to let his hands explore all over your body, you weren't trying to loose the last ounce of pride and dignity you had left.
"Fine. I'll let you off easy just this once princess. But next time I'm making you beg for it." Minho said slowly and you could tell he wasn't lying.
He took his fingers out of you and moved his way down your body, his head stopping at your thighs as he used his hands to spread them apart. He kissed the skin on the inside of your thighs before turning his attention to your throbbing pussy.
He licked a strip through your folds and then his mouth began to attack your heat. You moan and throw your head back as he continues to devour you. Each lick sending shivers down your spine, making your back arch, further incasing his head between your thighs. He kept both of his hands at your hips firmly to keep you from squirming out of your grip. And as he continued to go down on you, he worked magic with his tongue and you could soon feel heat rising to your core as he did so. He ate you out as if he were a starved man who hadn't eaten in days, and you couldn't help but continuously moan his name while he did so. You kept your hand on his head, ruining his perfectly styled hair while doing so, while your other hand on your mouth, trying so desperately to silence your loud moans.
You feel yourself on the brink of an orgasm as you gasped out, "Minho I'm- I'm really close." But before you could cum, Minho pulled his face away from your pussy making you whimper, "What? why- why'd you stop?" you said while panting.
"Sorry baby, but if your going to come, then it'll be around my cock." Minho says with a smirk as finds his way back on top of you, legs between yours and his hands resting on either side of you. He was already rock solid again as he lined the tip of his dick up with your entrance.
He began pushing in his head slowly and you let out a sharp gasp. You hadn't actually processed how big Minho was, not until he was about to go inside you. "Your too big." You could barley mumble out.
"You're alright baby. I know you'll be able to take it, right?" He asks, waiting for you to give him an actual confermation. He wasn't going to ever force you into something you didn't want to do.
You let out a nod but Minho just looked at you once more, "Words sweetheart." Minho reminded you as a soft smile tugged on the edge of his lips.
"I-I will be." You say before gulping, "I'll be okay." He brushed his hand against your cheek and moved a piece of your hair behind your ear as you said this.
"Good girl. That's what I thought." Minho cooed, and with one swift push he entered you fully, allowing his thick cock to stretch out your walls. You moaned loudly and the quick pain you felt turned into pleasure as you enjoyed the feeling of being filled up by him.
"Fuck- your so tight." Minho said as he let out a groan, slowly pulling himself back out of you and then in again.
You had been with only one other boy before and though you had thought of it as a good experience, comparing it to the one you were having with Minho right now, it was nothing. Minho knew exactly what he was doing and he was great at doing it. He knew just the right ways to make you squirm and moan his name, and it was safe to say he definitely knew how to get the right reaction out of you. You could do nothing but savor the feeling of him in you, he made you feel whole.
Your moans only got louder as Minho continued to pump deeply in and out of you. Again, you felt yourself growing closer and closer to an orgasm and Minho could feel this by the way your walls began to tighten even more around his cock. He slowed his thrusts down and would then speed up again, edging on your orgasm.
"Minho please.” you said desperately as he continued to pound into you.
"please what baby?" Minho said while panting. You had to give it to him, he had the stamina of a god. I mean shocker he's on the track team, so that's to be expected.
"Please just let me come- I'm so close." You said, your tone even more desperate then before as you basically begin to beg him.
"Alright princess, since you asked nicely." Minho said with a chuckle. God he still managed to be cocky even in situations like these. You could tell that he was close by the way his thrusts ended up become harder yet more and more sloppy. You felt waves of euphoria coming over you as one last thrust on Minho’s end was able to tip you over the edge. You finally unwound under him, moaning and overstimulated as he finished in you with one last thrust. “You’re so good for me.” Minho said while he kept his cock in your pussy for a moment longer. He gently kissed you as he pulled out and laid down next to you on the bed, slinging his arm around your shoulder. “You did so well baby, you know that right?” He said breathlessly as you both lied there panting. It definitely sounded like you had just ran a marathon now.
You looked at him and smiled as turned to your side and rested your hand on his chest.
“come on princess let’s take a shower and get you cleaned up,” Minho said while kissing you once more on the forehead before getting up and offering his hand to help you up from your bed.
God, you loved this man.
______________________________________________________________
@minminho0 (Im proud of myself for not forgetting to tag u lol)
okay yall this is it and I really hope you guys liked it. It took me a while to finish this because Ive never rlly written anything like this but uh theres a first time for everything right?
Also I have seen ur guys requests and I'm going to start working on them now but I will be doing a kind of first come first serve typa thing.
anyways I just wanted to say thank you again for all of the support that you guys have been giving me, it really means so much ❤️
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obae-me · 9 hours
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Omg Hi!!! It has been so long since I have seen you on my dash! How are you doing love? I hope you are doing super well ^.^ I recently saw your Mc with trauma post. I loved it so much, and it has also given me a lot to mull over the past few days lol.
Honestly I love the idea of a traumatized Mc and the brothers feeling like absolute shit for the way they treated them in the beginning... but yk another part of me wonders when I imagine my own traumas in that scenario... that for people (the bros- literal demons) who have faced so many things and traumas in their own lives, whether my feelings or pain is even comparable to that. Ik you can't compare things like that and the brothers would probably even be mad if I think of my feelings this way since it's the "Ohhhh someone always has it worse. It's not even that bad so just suck it up" self-deprecating part of me. Despite knowing ALL THAT I can't help but think that I am not traumatized enough to deserve empathy lmao (I realize how stupid it sounds saying it out loud).
So that is what REALLY got me thinking. What about an Mc that is genuinely terrified of scrutiny, being a nuisance and just basically inconveniencing anyone for things that are just basic needs. Idk if I am explaining it well enough oof and a mc like that (like me lmao) certainly won't bode well with Lucifer. Atleast not in the beginning. I could hate him (I could never but if I did) but still be terrified of disappointing him. This is what I mean when I say I love him but he reminds me too much of my father habits wise 🤢.
I am thinking a Mc who is afraid of asking even their basic needs at the beginning once Lucifer mumbled about them being too much trouble. Mc who feels so extremely guilty when the brothers get anything for them, cuz they feel like they have to work for it or they don't deserve it. Mc whose blood freezes over when they break something and try to replace it as quick as possible so no one blames them. Mc who never expresses their concerns so as to not add to the brothers' already full plates or worry them. It hurts to bottle it all up but seeing the brothers' concerned faces with so much PITY is a thousand times worse. Mc who never complains and adjusts to even unfair situations so as to not be a bother. Mc who just takes, takes and takes everything bad and doesn't say a word cuz they feel like they deserve it. Mc who tells little white lies to hide their flaws and be the perfect exchange student and avoid scoldings and criticisms ; only to stew in shame, disgust, self-loathing when someone eventually catches up on one of the lies (the person probably didn't even make a big deal of it/ was only mildly disappointed but Mc feels their heart breaking in two as they think they have broken their trust forever and would never be trusted again)
Gosh this got way longer than I was expecting >.< and a lot of signs like these aren't really obvious until you are close to that person. I think so many of us are so hard and rutheless to ourselves when sometimes the thing we need the most is a little compassion and understanding ;-;
Hi! I love seeing you in my inbox and thank you! I've been in recovery mode for the last few months but am finally coming back out of that cave and working on my hobbies again (seriously going too long without writing almost feels like going without food for me)! I hope you've been doing well too!
And oof, yes, I understand what you're saying completely. I'm like that too in a lot of ways, keeping certain details or complaints to myself because "Oh surely what I've been to is really nothing". And sometimes I let something slip and people get very concerned. Which is validating in a way, not that I need to be validated for it, everyone goes through their own pain and awful things SUCK no matter to what extent it is and I've had to learn that through my life.
(Wow that MC really is just me, huh? Calling me out are you? /j)
Honestly this type of MC is just canon to me. (I mean, the more pithy responses the MC has in original OM might just be due to writing but to me it just seems like the calm and general response of someone throwing out NPC answers as a survival tactic.)
They suck things up and soak up everything that's been said to them and work hard to remain a normal functioning being.
And of course Lucifer is an interesting character to think about with this MC because on one hand the human could absolutely despise him for the way he treats them. Or on the other hand (if you're like me I guess, which I realize is hella unhealthy, oops) the MC could look up to him and work extra hard to try to gain his validation, because getting praise from someone like that means you must not be a failure, right?
And just...the dynamic of that is so appealing to me, because Lucifer loves when people work hard and do what they're told, but then if he finally comes to the realization that they're burning out and actually almost putting themselves in more danger and harm because of HIM? And at the end of the day he's doing more damage than any of his chaotic brothers? (I like to have him spiral and be humbled just a bit)
Just all of the brothers doing some deep introspection once they come to care for MC and needing to sit down and realize that probably made their human feel so much worse and then spending the rest of eternity trying to fix that. And then the "I can fix him" mentality from MC turns into the "I can fix them" from every other character. A special Uno Reverse, if you will.
Oops, this turned into a fairly long ramble of my own...
Thanks for popping into my inbox with your thoughts! Traumatized MC deserves some extreme love
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A Glance & A Dance
This is @violettduchess request for my 50 follower event. I already explained the saga behind this but it really was so much fun! I decided to go less trauma more because the one I had with more trauma and angst was getting pretty dark and I also couldn't pull it together. Only thing I wish I could have come up with a better title, I'm trying to get more creative with them just it's not working well. I hope you enjoy and that it adds to your day, and thanks again for the support and congrats! Mild swearing, WC approx 1967.
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The stars in the night sky glimmered like jewels, as did the young ladies in their splendid dresses. The palace ballroom was lively and the music drifted on the night breeze while everyone laughed and enjoyed themselves, everyone except for two princes who stood on opposite sides of the room, one smiling while talking with everyone and masking his pain, the other silently watching.
He's always been strong. He'll get over her, he has to.
The first notes of another waltz began to play but rather than ask any of the dozen young ladies around him for their hand Leon gave them all a smile and walked away.
Come on Leon there's gotta be one woman here that-
“For somebody who's idea this whole thing was, you don't look to be having any fun.”
Jin didn't even bother to turn in Clavis's direction.
“Me having fun isn't the point of this.”
“Oh?”
Jin took the drink that Clavis so casually offered him and took a long sip, his gaze still focused on Leon.
“It won't work, you know that right.”
“Why not? He fell in love before and a ball is the perfect place for it after all, two hearts can become one with a dance.”
Clavis blinked in a daze for a moment then he burst out laughing.
“If it were really that easy I don't think you'd be feeling so guilty now would you."
Perceptive bastard aren't you.
“It may hurt for a while but it'll be better in the long run for everyone if he just moves on. None of us were supposed to fall in love with Emma to begin with-”
“But some of us did, didn't we? And I'm not just talking about Leon.”
Jin's grip tightened around his glass and his jaw clenched ever so slightly.
“You confessing to being in love with her too, Clavis?”
“Me no, but perhaps you want to take a good look at yourself.”
“I'm not in love with Emma.”
I can't allow myself to be. She deserves a hell of a lot better than me, better than Leon too. She deserves a life better than anything that awaited her here, she deserves to be happy.
Jin was expecting Clavis to laugh or try to push him on the matter but instead there was only silence. When he finally bothered to look at Clavis he found him staring down watching the grape juice swirl inside his glass as he toyed with it.
“I don't think any of us is qualified to give lectures on love or what to do about it to anyone but, I know Leon isn't happy and I doubt Emma is either. Is making two people so obviously miserable really the right thing to do, or is it what's easiest for you?”
Clavis didn't wait for a reply, instead walking off into the crowd leaving Jin alone with his thoughts. Jin was frustrated, not even with Clavis but with himself. How many times had he asked himself the same questions Clavis had just asked him? Jin downed the last of his drink and started walking across the ballroom.
I need some damn air.
He crossed the ballroom and exited out onto the balcony. The night air was cooling and helped to calm his thoughts as he leaned against the railing. As he stood there listening to the music he was brought back to a night similar to this one some twelve years ago.
“How have you been enjoying tonight's ball so far?”
“Fine.”
“What do you think of the guests? Any in particular that have made an impression?”
Jin knew what his father was asking and internally he grimaced.
“Sure, quite a few of them have sand in all the right places.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“I'm sure there's a couple that wouldn't mind playing by my rules in-”
The King's fist came down hard on the balcony railing sending a dull thud into the night air.
“Is that all you care about? Just satisfying your base lust and carnal desires!”
Jin's jaw clenched, how dare his father try to lecture him on giving into base desires.
“What about your future? What about love?”
“Love!?”
Jin spat the word out as if it burned his mouth.
“Yes love. I would like for you to have love in your life, like I did once. A ball is the perfect place for that after all, it was when I was dancing with your mother that I realized how in love with her I really was.”
“What?”
“It was a waltz. We were from two different worlds and I hadn't really allowed myself to think…but all it took was a glance during that dance and I knew. She loved me and wanted me as much as I did her and so I took a chance. When the waltz was done I took her out on the balcony and I confessed my love for her and asked if she loved me in return. She gave me the sweetest smile and and an even sweeter kiss, our two hearts became one because of that dance.”
“Love is nothing but a curse.”
“Then I hope it's a curse you one day have.”
Jin stood there and sighed at the memory, he was about to go back in when he noticed Leon further down, his hands resting on the balcony railing and a look of sadness in his eyes.
Come on Leon, you have to know that doing this is best for everyone. Hell if Emma could have been happy here I would have made my move well before you ever had a chance to make her fall in love with you but she wouldn't be happy she’d just be mis-
‘Is making two people so obviously miserable really the right thing to do?’
No, no it's not. I really screwed this one up didn't I? Hopefully I still have time to make this right. I may not be the one who gets to make her happy but-
“Hey.”
Jin called out to Leon as he approached him but Leon didn't acknowledge him, things had been strained between them lately. Leon had come up with a proposal to keep Emma by his side and all their other brothers had readily agreed to it but Jin wouldn't budge, not until tonight.
“Leon.”
“Oh Jin, sorry I didn't see you out here.”
“You looked like you were thinking pretty hard about something.”
“It was nothing, do you need something or.”
“That depends.”
“On?”
“On you admitting what you were thinking about.”
“Then forget it.”
Jin knew Leon had every right to be angry with him, and that was only for the stuff Leon knew about, but the distance between them now and the venom in Leon's voice stung. As Leon began to walk back inside Jin called out to him.
“You were thinking about Emma again weren't you?”
“If you're going to try and-”
“Just listen okay, I promise you don't have to listen to another word I ever say as long as you listen to me now.”
I'm the one who needs to let go so she can be happy.
**** One year later ****
On another night when the sky was filled with stars that shined like jewels and music was carried on the breeze a prince stood silently watching but this time it wasn't another prince he watched.
Emma had agreed to annul clause ninety nine and shortly after she had returned to the palace for good. All his brothers were happy she was back but especially Leon, Jin had never seen him as happy as that night on the balcony when he told him he would give in but only if Emma agreed to it.
I guess it all worked out for the best. I'm not the type of man who could make a woman like Emma happy, not really anyways but Leon's different. I know he'll do anything to make sure her life is full of love and happiness. Guess you got your wish after all huh old man?
Jin was watching Emma as she talked with a group of women her age then suddenly their eyes met across the room and she smiled at him.
I love seeing you smile like that. If only I could truly let you go but as much as I've tried I can't.
Jin saw that Emma was excusing herself and his eyes followed her as she came to stand at his side.
“Hey there Emma, you look like you're having fun.”
“I really am, I've talked to so many people and danced so much tonight.”
“That's good, it's important to enjoy yourself.”
“What about you? I’ve barely seen you talk to anyone or dance once tonight.”
“Haha. Is that your way of trying to get me to dance with you?”
Jin reached out and playfully tousled Emma's hair.
“I'm flattered but I couldn't possibly dance with you.”
“Are you afraid I'll step on your toes like I did to Yves?”
“No, I'm afraid that with just one dance you'll fall madly in love with me.”
“Oh I see…wait, what?”
Jin slid an arm around Emma's waist, his voice taking on a seductive lilt.
“It's only natural after all, the soft music, the rhythmic motions, how close you have to be to one another, the longing gazes. One dance is all it can take for two people's hearts to become one”
This may be selfish of me but...
“It also helps that I'm already madly in love with you. I have been for a long time and I want to be the one to make you happy so badly it hurts. You have no idea how jealous I am of Leon, that he’s the one who gets to be with you, kiss you, make love to you.”
Jin tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.
“I'm also super sexy and still in the prime of my youth, so all those combined the only thing you could do is fall in love with me and then I'd have to fight Leon for you, shirtless of course.”
I can't be with you and that's the best thing for you, even if you didn't love somebody else it would still be best for us not to be together. All I can do for you now is watch over you.
Jin’s voice was purposely light, a smile on his face and he started to laugh as he removed his hand from Emma's waist.
“You should see the expression on your face, did I take it too far this time?.”
“Jin, don't tease me like that! I thought you were serious!”
“Sorry, I promise I won't tease you like that again. How about I make it up to you by dancing with you after all?”
Jin was about to offer Emma his hand but then he noticed Leon approaching from the corner of his eye.
“Looks like that dance will have to wait for another time, unless you really do want me to fight Leon shirtless?”
“No! I'm perfectly fine with no shirtless fighting!”
“Do I want to know what the two of you were talking about?”
“Leon! Jin was just teasing me again, that's all.”
“Well then it looks like I'm just in time, care to dance Emma?”
“With pleasure!”
“See you two later. Oh and Emma, don't forget what I said, it only takes one dance.”
I don't really mind living with this curse. Leon makes you happy and as long as you can always be happy, unlike them.
The ball was long over but in the stillness just before the dawn, when shadows played along the walls there in the middle of the ballroom the ghosts of a Belle and her Prince took one more glance and one more dance.
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krispyykrab · 3 months
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there is really something cruel and strange and fucked up about switching between thinking youre the center of the universe and thinking youre completely invisible 50 fuckin times a day. like do you have a god complex or an inferiority complex make up your mind
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lynaferns · 6 months
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School is draining any small motivation I had for art
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or creativity in general
(tw: I got pretty much depressive in the tags but I needed to dump this somewhere and this may not be the best place but is where I feel better talking about my problems or insecurities, so feel free to ignore)
#vent in the tags#tw vent#i'm tired#and I hate that I'm tired#everytime I try to finish education is worst than the last time. my head can't take any sort of information from the class#no matter how many times they try to explain me or how many times I read and reread the same text#I can't focus. I can't memorize anything. I'm just sitting there in the classroom waiting for the 4 hours to finish to go back home#and spend the rest of the night just doing nothing. staring at the walls or doomscrolling till I have to go to bed and wake up again#for another day of fighting against an stupid anxiety attack in class because I'm going to fail this again#I hate school. I fucking hate it. the most boring stressing overwhelming way of learning#having the teacher talk for 1-2 hours straight and the student listening the whole time not saying anything is stupid#it's so fucking stupid they only want them to be mindless sheeps that only listen#because if you say anything 'no. you're wrong. I'm the teacher and I know better' fucking bullshit#this system is bullshit#and how am I supposed to study a whole school year of history. biology. math etc in less than 4 months??#everybody was like#'oh it's just 4 months and you'll be out of school!' 'in 4 months you'll get the education!' 'you can finish this in just 4 months!'#I fucking can't! I can't do this in such short time! I can't. focus. on 6. subjects at the same time. my brain can't!#and it's so fucking depressing. I have 4 opportunities to finish this. the longest it could take me is 2 years#I could just focus on 1 or 2 things each time but if I fail too many times I won't have another opportunity like this ever again#and I won't be able to finish highschool education and I. just. can't.#I'm tired of giving my biggest effort and not being enough. I'm tired of getting no satisfaction from any achievement I get#I hate so many things right now#and I have a lot more things in my head right now but I better shut up#you don't have to comfort me. it's ok. I'm not searching for confort. I just needed a place to dump my frustration or something#idk#you can ignore this#I might delete this later
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frogayyyy · 1 year
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will my mum ever understand that i don’t like talking (as in it’s really physically difficult) sometimes, especially in the morning, and not get upset with me and make me feel guilty about it despite telling her countless times that this is why? 😃
i just vented in the tags sorry bout that :S
#i wouldn’t say non verbal but pretty close#it’s the same with everything#she just doesn’t understand at all and it’s so draining :/#she constantly makes me feel bad for trying to set boundaries so i just give up#like no i genuinely can’t do some things without help no matter how many times you explain it to me i’m sorry?#no i don’t like that food because the texture makes me want to rip my hair out#i want to try different foods i just have bad anxiety about it and you making comments about it doesn’t help#yes i do need to have headphones or earplugs in most of the time bc sometimes it’s unbearable not to#yes i want to spend time alone in my room bc a) it’s a normal thing to do and b) it’s the one place where i can just be myself n not mask#no i’m not ignoring you you actually just interrupted a conversation i was having with my friends#‘i wish you would talk to me more about things’ I WONDER WHY I DONT#and i can’t even say any of this to her because she’d just cry and tell me what a bad mother she is#like… yea exactly#don’t even get me started on queer stuff#yknow i came out two years ago as not straight#and she hasn’t said a single thing about it since#not even vaguely supportive#i can’t even remember if she told me she still loves me#she said ‘i don’t know what to say’ and left me sobbing by myself#i have to censor myself around them bc i still don’t know how they feel about it#the worst part of it is that i convince myself she isn’t that bad so i just forgive her#and never do anything about it#even now i’m thinking ‘ yea but she genuinely isn’t that badi’ 🤡#i want to leave so bad or at least not be in the same house#but i’m not financially independent yet#and i genuinely don’t know if i could cope living on my own#:’D#just gotta deal with it for now#thank god for this safe space 🙏 love u guys#about the only thing keeping me (partially) sane atm
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medicinemane · 3 days
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.
#I get tired of people trying to explain what lens I should view the world through; what way I could think that would make everything better#forgive me but I don't care; I do what I do and I do what I can and you don't see the work I do under the hood#I don't want advice on self validation or whatever; I want... I want someone to hold a mirror up so I can actually see myself#by which I mean I want input on how I'm doing; if it's good enough; if it's worth anything; if anything I make is good#everyone things I'm nice; everyone has always thought I'm nice#but given nice leaves me profoundly isolated I don't think I care#not to mention in my opinion what nice in this instance means is that I'm capable of listening#it's mostly that I have manners rather than some quality about me#I'm well behaved and polite and can listen; and that's perceived as nice or even sweet#and it's not like I'm offended by people seeing me that way; but maybe you can get why... I can't do anything with that information#but if I'm doing enough... if I provide any value to the world... I might have heard that less times in my life than years I've lived#that's where I'm totally blind#people don't tend to offer any input; and also people don't tend to let me know what they're thinking#and I in fact am not a mind reader; I can often accurately infer things; but no of that means a thing till it's confirmed#and... well... hopefully no one reads the stupid shit I say and especially not the tags so this is safe and hidden#but truthfully people just like to hear that stuff they're doing is wanted and matters#and I do not#I don't know... gotta go do more cleaning cause I need to#and I have no idea if... I've got a reason for fighting so hard to clean; but I get very little input so... I expect... well...#and thankfully I don't think they read my tags so I can say this#but I really expect they won't take me up on my offer to come out here and get away from their parents; so there will be no pay off#not that I blame them in the slightest... it's just the only possible pay off for this cleaning would be helping someone I like out#and a scrap of company#but then again... in many ways anyone coming out to live with me is the worst thing they could probably do#sorry... I have a rather bleak outlook on many things surrounding myself purely cause of what I infer from the past#there is never pay off; only more shit I need to get done#I will never be loved; I will never be wanted; I will always just kinda be an afterthought that's occasionally worth venting to#no one will ever be particularly interested in anything I'm interested while I'll chase their interests or at least try to#certainly let them talk about them when they want#...though I take that over my normal total isolation... better to at least be permitted to follow in someone's shadow than have nothing
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orcelito · 9 months
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Ykno the common critique I've seen around is that trimax fights r hard to follow & such. And I've always had the kind of thought of like "I mean sometimes it can be confusing, but if u stop to study it it's really not that bad"
Having a fight analysis post kinda blow up tho I'm seeing ppl comment over and over in the tags about how hard it is to keep up with the fights... and I'm just like. Is it really that confusing? Like genuinely. I thought it was one of those overblown fan critiques but it seems like a Lot of people agree with it.
#speculation nation#in the original manga Yea fights were pretty hard. took me a Lot of squinting to figure out what actually happened with the Nebraskas#but idk most of the fights r just vibes. u follow along and feel what the characters r feeling and the fine details dont matter.#a lot of times i do end up flipping back and forth between pages bc there r details revealed later on that make earlier things make sense#or just looking for clarification. that kind of thing.#so yeah it kinda does take some work to fully understand it but i kinda figured that's like... how manga fights go...#i much prefer this over the common shounen trope of stopping the fight to explain every single move that's done#so im just like 'come ON i already understood it!!! can we keep going already????'#is it the fact that nightow doesnt do this that makes it so confusing??? so ppl dont get the play by play as it happens???#this all probably sounds obnoxious but im just genuinely trying to make sense of it.#i guess im also just a perceptive person when im paying attention to smth. maybe that's what it ultimately boils down to.#one person commented saying theyd kill if i did play by plays for all the trimax fights lol#i probably wont for All of them bc that sounds like quite a project#but if another catches my attention in this same sorta way... then maybe.#i guess understanding nightow's fights is a skill. probably at least partially assisted by being able to read the sound effects.#oh yeah. that's another thing lol. i can read the sound effects. and that especially helps with knowing how many shots there are#stuff like that. 🤔 yea i dunno. i wasnt expecting that post to get so many notes.#but it's well over 400 now and still counting. waking up to 99+ notifications is... an experience lmao
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bigboobshaunt · 8 months
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Mercado Libre has what's perhaps the worst app in the business, which is really embarrassing considering its size, and also just godawful customer service. I would prefer not to switch to amazon if I could help it, but goddamn.
#how many times do I have to scan my damn face and send you pics of my documents#I am embarrassed of this at this point#there's 2fa and then there's whatever this is#yeag sorry I no longer have the same phone number as when I made this account over a decade ago I guess#I'll try to send you my docs for the third time and scan my face AGAIN I guess#no it wasn't helpful at all WHY DID YOU SEND ME AN EMAIL PATTING YOURSELF IN THE BACK FOR THAT INTERACTION#you failed to help me in any way what the fuck??#if I could record my screen rn I would show you me going to their website. being asked if I prefer to continue using the app or the browser#choosing browser and then it opens the app. how on earth do you even fuck that up. I#personal#I actually have like. an unclaimed ninty eshop 20 usd card on my og account#that neither the seller nor the website will let me receive on a second account#no matter how I've offered to prove my identity#I guess it just sits in my messages forever now#I contacted them with the e-mail address I have linked to that account I can't access rn and had the worst interaction I have ever had#'hey I have a product key waiting in my messages but can't currently access that account at the moment. I can provide you witu verification#'I'm sorry we can only verify you if you were to contact us through this method w the same e-mail address you have linked to that account'#'... this IS that e-mail address. I've just explained it to you'#'You can use your e-mail address or username with a password to access your account and your messages screen'#'As I've already told you. It is not letting me even after I submit verification through your facial recog and document scan methods'#'we're sorry. you can try sending us an e-mail with the e-mail address (art**********@outlook.com.br) you have linked to the account'#'.....................this is that exact e-mail address. the one You Are Responding To Right Now. I've already told you this#*they send me a link to reset my password... for some reason*#*I sent them yet another. more politely and clearly worded message explaining my situation-#-that I no longer have the phone number they want me to authenticate it with and their alt methods all end up in failures when I try*#*they send a message telling me my support ticket has been marked as concluded and asking me to rate the interaction*#(an ad for their crypto business adorns the signature of that e-mail as a final Fuck You)#partway through the whole thing I started wondering about the cadence of their support's response and... I think it might be AI 🤦🏼‍♂️
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apathyfairy · 10 months
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#tonight or tomorrow morning actually is the 4 year anniversary of my dog dying and like surprise surprise lol im still not over it like.#i honest to god dont think i ever will. i honestly dont know how people move on and get other pets and just. keep on living like i#understand it like for some people it's part of the healing process but i just could never do it. like i just cant even fathom#i dont know that's not the point. the point is im having such a hard time because everytime i do anything tonight i keep thinking#4 years ago i still had my dog or 4 years ago in 5 hours i didnt know id be going to the vet at 1am and going home without my dog at 5am#and i just keep reliving it no matter how hard i try to not. and on one hand i want it hurt like i want to remember it just to punish myself#i just i just cant move on like it's just. i went 24 years of my life without ever experiencing death and then 4 years ago today my dog dies#in the most tragic possible way ever and then 11 months later my other dog who i had for 17 years since i was 8 dies and yeah still#not over that one either because i never let myself process that or truly grieve her because i had to shut that up real tight#or i would have lost it for real. and i have the most fucked up miserable tragic dreams about her so many nights a week#because she was old and had been u know. like old dogs do they just decline and that was impossibly hard to watch but at least i kind of#knew it was coming u know but like with my other dog. there was just absolutely no warning it was so sudden and it just ripped me apart and#i honest to god will never be okay again and then 6 months after all that i find out my ex died and only because after 6 years i finally#Finally decide to have the guts to talk to him again and apologize and explain and try to be friends and then nope he's dead#then in between all those deaths a super close family friend died and my grandpa my dad's dad died and like it's just#i had never even experienced death before and then all of a sudden i was engulfed in it and i just dont know how to come back from it.#but tonight is just. painful. like i havent even said his name out loud since it happened. i cant talk about him at all just writing this i#want to cry like  it just fucking hurts forever. and it should i guess.#and i feel so stupid because so many times i wonder if my cat even remembers them and i wonder if she misses them too and idk#that makes me feel stupid and emotional and im just a wreck but i should be.
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veiledintj · 2 years
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INTJ: Everytime I write a psychology essay I'm like "I Ni'd out it all by myself but I need to find studies that came to the same conclusion so that I'm not speculating or plagiarizing and it's honestly pretty annoying"
(Functions-based analysis in tags)
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waywardblake · 1 year
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youtube
One Ok Rock - Take What You Want / Live Acoustic Ver. Audio
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